


Hyphenating

by Marauder_the_Slash_Nymph



Series: 2004 [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: 2004, Bisexuality, Engagement, Fix-It, M/M, Massachusetts, New York, Oliver has angsty teenage sons, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 03:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14011374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marauder_the_Slash_Nymph/pseuds/Marauder_the_Slash_Nymph
Summary: In the summer of 2004, Professor Oliver Weiss inadvertently sparks confusion for his colleagues and conflict for his family when he e-mails the Bellenger College faculty to tell them that he's changing his name to Oliver Weiss-Perlman...but neglects to tell them why. Movie-verse.





	Hyphenating

**July 2004**

Miranda Greeley, classics professor at Bellenger College, glanced at her laptop. “Roy.”

“Hmm?” It was a Sunday morning and Roy was sprawled on the couch reading the paper.

“Listen to this e-mail I just got and tell me what you think. Ready?”

Roy didn’t look up from the comics. “Ready.”

“Okay, this is from Oliver Weiss. ‘Hey, everyone. I thought I’d take this opportunity to tell you that when we come back to campus in August, my name will be Oliver Weiss-Perlman. Just so the new nameplate doesn’t catch you by surprise! Hope everyone is having a great summer – I just got back from taking my sons to Italy. See you in August’ and then he signs it.” Miranda nudged Roy’s foot. “What do you think?”

Roy didn’t know why he had to think. He was barely awake and he didn’t even know who Oliver Weiss was. “I don’t know. He’s getting married?”

“But he doesn’t say he’s getting married.”

Roy had been only half-listening, but suddenly something clicked in his mind. He remembered Oliver Weiss now.

“Wait, he can’t be getting married. Didn’t he just get married?”

“No.” Miranda reached for her reading glasses and squinted at the computer, as if the mystery would now be solved.

“Yeah, he did. We drove to Connecticut for the wedding. Everybody gave him grief because it took him three tries to break the glass. Big tall guy.” Roy decided not to mention that he also remembered the bride’s ample cleavage.

“He didn’t _just_ get married, that was four years ago. He’s divorced now.”

“Four years ago?”

“Yeah. I remember because it was the day after my forty-fifth birthday.”

“Huh.” Roy went back to the paper.

Miranda looked up at the slowly rotating ceiling fan. “Maybe the Perlman part comes from some relative.”

“Maybe,” said Roy. He was pretty sure the Garfield comic in this paper had appeared last month. Must be great to be Jim Davis – draw three panels for every day, get rich off the merchandising.

“I don’t buy it, though. Why would you change your name and not mention why?”

Roy turned a page. “Call him and ask him.”

“I can’t call him and ask him, Roy!”

“Call his ex-wife,” Roy retorted.

It was a facetious suggestion, Miranda knew, but it wasn’t a bad one. She’d barely met Heather, wife number two, but Julie, wife number one, lived six blocks away and was a fellow member of the PTA.

****

“This is the suckiest thing that ever happened to me.”

Aaron Weiss, age seventeen, was slouched over the kitchen table, slurping a bowl of cornflakes and talking with his mouth full. After two weeks of self-censorship and nearly nine hours of flying through several time zones, he was done holding back.

Julie, his mother, was standing at the stove, cooking soup to reheat later for dinner. “Really? It’s worse than your grandfather dying?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I was _prepared_ for that.”

Julie checked the microwave timer. Seven more minutes.

“We’re not even going to have the same last name as Dad anymore, Mom. How do we even explain that?”

Julie took a deep breath, but didn’t reply.

“God, I’m so glad we’re home,” Aaron continued. “Spend ten minutes with Elio’s parents and you know exactly why he’s weird.”

“He’s not weird,” interjected Alex. Alex was fifteen and Aaron had spent most of the trip to Italy wanting to punch him. Alex actually _liked_ Elio. Alex actually liked the Perlmans, who had taken a full four days to finally remember that Aaron and Alex had no fucking idea what they were saying when they suddenly burst out in Italian or French. It was all because of _Lord of the Rings_.

Alex was obsessed with _Lord of the Rings_ – his room was covered with posters of Gollum and Aragorn, his notebooks were filled with his attempts to translate passages into Elvish – and Elio had taught him how to play “Into the West” on the piano. So now Elio was cool, apparently, even though Aaron and Alex’s parents were divorced because their dad couldn’t forget about some gross summer with Elio back in the eighties. The Perlmans thought Alex’s geekoid attempts to learn Elvish were delightful – that was the exact word Aaron had heard Mrs. Perlman use, talking to his father one night after dinner. Mr. Perlman had joked he might start learning Elvish himself. _God_.

The Perlmans had not said Aaron was delightful. That was fine with him.

And they _loved_ Aaron’s dad. They couldn’t shut up about how happy they were to welcome him to the family, as if it was normal to like a guy who’d slept with your teenage son. Aaron had done the math. Elio had been seventeen the summer Aaron’s dad had stayed with the Perlmans – he’d been Aaron’s age. Was his dad still into teenage boys? Did he look at Aaron’s friends and rate them in his mind, which one was the hottest?

As much as Aaron hated his dad, he didn’t think his dad probably did. Elio didn’t look anything like a teenager now. Aaron had seen pictures at the Perlmans’ house, and Elio had gained about thirty pounds since then, plus gotten glasses. Didn’t mean the whole thing with his dad and Elio wasn’t gross, though.

The only person the Perlmans seemed to adore more than Aaron’s dad, and their precious “Elly-Belly” – Mr. Perlman had actually called Elio that one night, and Aaron had nearly barfed – was Elio’s daughter, Johanna. Twelve years ago, some lady named Veronica had actually thought reproducing with Elio was a good idea. Johanna had been there for the first week of the two-week trip; she looked like a mini-Elio, played the piano like a mini-Elio, and never shut up. Now, thanks to the Massachusetts Supreme Court, mini-Elio was going to be Aaron’s stepsister. She was excited to be in the wedding and had a blue maid of honor dress.

Aaron’s dad hadn’t asked Aaron to be in the wedding. Whatever else you could say about Aaron’s dad, he wasn’t an idiot.

“Elio’s not weird,” Alex insisted yet again.

“Whatever, Alex. Maybe you can change your last name to Weiss-Perlman too, and when Grandma dies I’ll be the only Weiss left all by myself.”

Aaron’s mom had been Julie Weiss when she was married, but after the divorce she went back to Julie Rubin. (Rubin, Perlman – ruby, pearl. If Heather’s last name had been Goldberg, Aaron’s dad would have married a whole jewelry store.) Grandpa Ira, Aaron’s dad’s dad, had been dead since Aaron was twelve. Aunt Kimberley’s last name was Fleischman. Heather hadn’t changed her name when she’d married Aaron’s dad. There would be three Weisses left – Aaron, Alex, and Grandma Naomi.

Plus one Weiss-Perlman. And one Perlman-Weiss. Apparently, screwing Aaron’s dad at age seventeen entitled Elio to take his last name twenty-one years later.

Aaron still remembered when he found out why his parents were getting divorced. He’d been nine years old and coming down the stairs to ask his mom if he could watch _The Lion King_ on the VCR; Alex had been at soccer practice with their dad. Aaron’s mom was on the phone with her friend Cheryl. It was two days after Aaron’s parents had told him and Alex they were getting divorced; Aaron’s dad hadn’t even moved out yet. Aaron was just about to walk into the living room when he heard his mom crying and stopped.

“Oliver told me – “ It took Aaron’s mom a few seconds to stop sobbing. “Do you remember when we broke up just before he went to Italy, back in eighty-three? I told him I didn’t think he was serious and I wanted to move on. He told me last week that while he was there that summer, he fell in love with – “

Her voice had changed. It sounded _hard_ all of a sudden – hard and almost mean, but not quite. “With the son of the family he was staying with. They were – involved with each other. He says he hasn’t spoken to him in years but he still dreams about him. He wanted us to go to counseling – “ Just then Aaron’s mom had looked up and seen him standing in the kitchen. “Aaron, go play outside!”

“I wanna watch _The Lion King_ ,” Aaron had blurted out. His dad had fallen in love with somebody’s son? A guy? What did “involved with each other” mean?

“Fine. Watch it in the basement.”

Aaron had watched it in the basement. He’d cried when Mufasa died, which he didn’t understand because he’d watched it five times before and hadn’t cried then. His dad had moved out the next day. He’d never told Alex what he’d heard their mom say. Their parents got divorced, and their dad got visitation. He saw Aaron and Alex even more than the court told him to, because they all still lived in the same town and sometimes Aaron’s mom would drop him and Alex at his dad’s office after school if she needed to work late. The two of them would sit on their dad’s old leather couch and do homework while he answered e-mails or graded essays.

By the time Aaron’s dad married Heather, when Aaron was thirteen, Aaron kind of knew what it meant that his dad had fallen in love with someone’s son. It meant that his dad was gay, like Robin Williams’s brother in _Mrs. Doubtfire_ – except that his dad was nothing like that. And the way his dad looked at Heather when he thought Aaron wasn’t noticing, it was hard to believe his dad had ever been with a guy. Heather was hot. She wore tight jeans and had huge boobs. When Aaron’s friends came over to his dad’s house on the weekends, he could tell they thought his dad was the luckiest guy in the world. When Aaron told them his dad was getting divorced, barely a year after the wedding, they couldn’t believe it. Why would you ever split up from _Heather_?

Because you’d rather be with Elio fucking Perlman, that was why. Two years after the second divorce, Aaron’s dad had called Aaron and Alex into his living room for what Aaron thought of as the Big Awkward Talk.

The Big Awkward Talk was about how sometimes people had feelings they didn’t understand, and it could take a long time to figure out what to do about those feelings. Aaron’s dad didn’t even sound like himself. Now, a year later, Aaron knew who he had sounded like – he had sounded like the Perlmans. The conclusion of the Big Awkward Talk was that Aaron’s dad was getting back together with someone he’d fallen in love with a long time ago, and that person was a man named Elio. Elio was a violinist with an orchestra. “That’s actually his third instrument – he didn’t even start the violin until college,” Aaron’s dad had added, as if they were supposed to care. He’d smiled. Aaron had hated that smile because he recognized it. It was the same smile his dad had when Aaron won the high school science fair as a sophomore, and when Alex got two poems and a short story published in the school literary magazine. It was a proud smile. Aaron’s dad was proud of Elio.

They’d met Elio about a month later. He’d come over during one of the visitation weekends and cooked them all a big Italian dinner. Unlike his parents, he hadn’t gushed on about how happy he was to meet them, though he’d asked Aaron and Alex a few questions about school and hobbies. The freakiest thing about him was the way he was always carefully watching you and you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. The second freakiest thing about him was the way he seemed to know something about everything. When Alex had mentioned Magic: The Gathering, Aaron had sat back and smirked. There was no way Elio was going to know what the hell Magic was.

Nope. He knew what it was. Not a whole lot about it, but enough to ask intelligent questions.

To Aaron’s immense relief, Elio hadn’t moved in with his dad, although from the amount of Elio’s stuff around the house, he clearly spent a lot of time there. But since the engagement, Aaron had found himself almost wishing Elio had.

Bellenger College and Aaron’s dad’s house were in Alfriston, New York, right next to the Massachusetts border. Elio lived about an hour into Massachusetts, commuting one direction for work and another direction to see Aaron’s dad. Elio was a Massachusetts resident and had no issues getting a marriage license there. Elio was legally free to go ahead and get gay-married, and Aaron’s dad had moved in with him at the start of the summer. From what Aaron had heard, government people were still arguing about whether you could get gay-married in Massachusetts if you didn’t live there. After the wedding, they were moving into a new house on the Massachusetts side of the border, only about fifteen minutes from his dad’s old house. Elio had put in his notice with his current orchestra and had a job lined up with one in New York.

The wedding was in August, the week before classes started at Bellenger College.

Just as the timer beeped for the soup, the phone rang. Julie turned off the burner and reached for the cordless phone on the counter. “Hello?”

Aaron took the cornflakes box from the table and poured more into his bowl.

“Oh – hi, Miranda.”

“Why do you care so much about what Dad’s name is?” Alex asked Aaron. “You didn’t care when Mom changed her name.”

“It’s been going pretty well,” Julie said into the phone. “The boys just got back from two weeks in Italy with Oliver.”

“Because it’s fucking embarrassing,” Aaron told Alex. “Do you know anybody else who doesn’t have the same last name as either of their parents? We’re going to have to spend the rest of our lives explaining this shit to people. We’re going to have to spend the rest of our lives explaining _Elio_.”

“Somewhere in the north,” Julie told Miranda. “He wanted the boys to meet Elio’s family before the wedding.”

“Why do you hate Elio so much?”

Aaron looked at his brother. At six feet and still growing at age fifteen, Alex had gotten his build from their dad, but the brown eyes and dark hair were straight from their mom. Aaron had all of their dad’s coloring and none of his height. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. What did Elio ever do to you?”

Julie looked up at the two of them. “In August,” she said to Miranda.

“Mom and Dad wouldn’t be divorced if it wasn’t for Elio! God, Alex, figure it out. The whole time we were kids, Dad didn’t want to be here.”

“Miranda, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to call you back.” Julie pressed the off-button. “Aaron – “

But Aaron wasn’t stopping now. “He didn’t want to be here, Alex. He didn’t want to help us with homework or take you to soccer or whatever. He wanted to be back in Italy sucking Elio’s dick.”

Before Aaron realized what was happening, Alex lunged at him, knocking him out of his chair and onto the floor.

“Get off me!” Aaron yelled, shoving Alex as hard as he could, but Alex outweighed him by about twenty pounds. Their mother ran over and grabbed Alex; Aaron heard the spoon in his cereal bowl rattle as she bumped into the table. “Goddamn it – “

“Take it back!” Alex yelled, his nose an inch from his brother’s. A tear from his face fell onto Aaron’s cheek. “Take it back or I’ll _kill_ you – “

Julie finally managed to separate them; Aaron sat up, dazed. Alex was hunched on the floor, sobbing like a little kid. Julie exhaled slowly and sat down on the floor between her sons. “Okay, Aaron,” she said softly. “Tell me in your own words why you think your dad and I are divorced.”

Aaron didn’t look at her. “You’re not my therapist,” he muttered. His dad had a therapist now. Probably something else the Perlmans thought was great.

“No, I’m your mother. Tell us why you think we’re divorced.”

“Because he couldn’t get over Elio,” Aaron said. Alex was still crying. The last time Aaron had seen him cry had been three years ago, when their dog died. “Because he still dreamed about him. I heard you tell Cheryl.”

“I can’t remember what I said to Cheryl,” Julie said. Outside, the clouds shifted in the sky; sunlight came through the window and Aaron could see it glint off the gray hairs on his mother’s head. “But your dad wanted to get over Elio. He wanted us to go to counseling and try to fix our marriage. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t think he was going to get over Elio, and I didn’t like that he’d been keeping a secret from me for our entire marriage. There isn’t any one person responsible for why we’re divorced. And, Aaron – “

She was crying too. “Your dad has always been so proud of you two and loved you so much. He doesn’t regret you or any time with you. I don’t think he’s ever told you this, but when you were fourteen he got an offer to teach at Princeton and he turned it down because he didn’t want to move away from you.”

Aaron blinked. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why’d he pick us over Princeton? I treat him like crap, Mom. I haven’t said, like, a single nice thing to him since I had to do a toast when he married Heather. Why didn’t he just go to Princeton?”

Alex raised his head. “Because he loves you,” he said.

“Yeah, but _why_?”

Julie sighed. “Aaron,” she said, “you don’t know anything about being a parent.”

The three of them sat in silence for a minute until Alex said, “Look, I’ll apologize if you do.”

Aaron opened his mouth to argue that Alex should apologize first – Alex had _attacked_ him, after all – but changed his mind. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have shoved you, especially because I caught you off-guard and you’re, like, half my size.” Alex smirked and poked Aaron’s shoulder.

“Shut up, asshole,” Aaron said, and poked him back.

*****

By noon, Aaron and Alex had both decided they were too jet-lagged to stay awake and had lumbered upstairs to bed. All the way back in the living room, Julie could hear them snoring. She picked up the phone on the end table and punched in Oliver’s cell phone number.

“Hi, you’ve reached Oliver Weiss. I’m not available right now, so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you later. Thanks.”

“Oliver, hi, it’s Julie.” Suddenly she felt almost as tired as her sons. “I need you to call me back as soon as you get this. Aaron and Alex just had a huge fight and a lot of things came up about our divorce, and you and Elio, and – call me back when you get this. I think we might need to have a few sessions with somebody who specializes in family counseling. Also, Miranda Greeley called me. She seemed to know that you were changing your name but it was a total surprise to her that you were getting remarried. I don’t know what’s going on there and I don’t want to pry into your business, but I know a lot of the faculty at Bellenger and I don’t want to have to explain to all of them that you’re marrying Elio. I don’t know what you told them, but I’d appreciate it if you could sort it out. Call me back. Bye.”

*****

Two times, almost twelve years apart, Annella Perlman had received a call from her son to tell her there was going to be a new member of the family. The first time had been a crisis.

“Mom?” Elio had been twenty-six and almost done with graduate school, but with that word, he sounded like a boy again.

Annella put down her book at once. “Elio? What is it?”

“I did something – “ Elio let out a single-note laugh, brusque and humorless. “I’m too old to be having this conversation.”

“Darling, what happened? Tell me.”

“I got somebody pregnant, Mom. I’m going to be a father.”

Annella gripped the arm of the couch for support. The news was completely unexpected – the last partner Elio had mentioned had been a cellist named Michael – but a thrill of excitement ran through her nonetheless. The first grandchild. “Oh, Elio!”

“I know this probably isn’t what you expected – “

“Elio, don’t worry about it. What’s going on? What are you and the mother planning?”

Elio exhaled slowly. “Veronica’s band is scheduling a tour. It’s supposed to start about a month after the due date.”

“When is she due?”

“October twelfth. We’ve only got five months. She didn’t think she was really pregnant at first – Mom, she wants me to take the baby while she goes on tour.” His voice was panicked. “I can’t do it. I have to do it, but I can’t. I don’t know anything about babies.”

“If you need me to come there – “

“No. I don’t want you or Papa coming to rescue me. Just – convince me I can do it. Because I don’t think Veronica really believes I can.”

Annella and Samuel had sent books, clothes – even Giovanni, Elio’s old stuffed rabbit. Mafalda, retired for the last two years, had crocheted a blanket and three sweaters. The baby had arrived one day before the due date; Annella and Samuel were just sitting down to dinner when the phone rang. “It’s a girl,” came Elio’s exhausted voice. “Johanna Claire Leary. I couldn’t talk Veronica into giving her our last name. She gave me the first, though.”

The Perlmans had gone to Massachusetts for Hanukkah and visited Elio and Johanna in their cramped, run-down apartment. Johanna’s crib was wedged next to Elio’s bed. “Look at you!” Samuel had said, delighted, and taken her from Elio’s arms. She started screaming immediately. “Oh, listen to those healthy lungs!”

There wasn’t room for Samuel and Annella to both stay in the apartment, but they’d taken turns each night of Hanukkah sleeping on Elio’s couch so they could get up with Johanna and let him have a full night’s sleep. Despite their best intentions, it hadn’t always worked. “Make sure you get her to burp,” Elio had told Annella in the middle of one night, standing shirtless and bleary-eyed in the doorway. “Otherwise she’ll spit up in her sleep.”

Johanna was against Annella’s shoulder. The smell of formula and stomach acid permeated the air. “We’re just fine, Elio, go back to bed.”

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

Elio’s eyes were half-shut; Annella wasn’t sure he was totally awake. “You want to know something strange? Ever since Johanna was born, I keep dreaming about Oliver.”

Annella avoided his eyes, still patting Johanna on the back. She’d never been able to tell what Elio wanted her to know about the summer Oliver had stayed with them.

“Maybe it’s because he has kids now,” Elio continued. “He does, doesn’t he? Didn’t he say that in a letter to you once?”

“Yes,” said Annella. “He has two sons.”

“Huh.” Elio ran his fingers through his matted curls. “You know, he left me a note once – ‘Grow up. I’ll see you at midnight.’ I think of that every time Johanna wakes up at twelve. That’s who I’m seeing at midnight now. I guess I grew up.”

*****

The second time Elio had called to tell Annella he was adding a member to the family, he was laughing his head off.

“Mom?” Someone else in the background was laughing too. “Is Papa there?”

Annella gestured to Samuel, who came and stood next to her. “Yes, he’s here. He’s standing beside me.”

“Mom – “ Elio stopped and began laughing again. The other voice in the background was saying, “All right, take a deep breath.”

“Elio, maybe you should call us back when you haven’t been drinking – “

“No, I’m calling you now. Papa? Are you there?”

Samuel leaned forward. “I’m here, Elio.”

“I didn’t want to tell you this – “ Another pause, more laughter. “I didn’t want to tell you this until I knew it was serious – and it’s really, really serious – “

“Give me the phone,” the other voice said. “Samuel? Annella? I’m sorry, the champagne must have gone right to his head.”

Annella hadn’t heard that voice in twenty years, but she suddenly recognized it. “ _Oliver_?”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“’Later’ has arrived,” Samuel whispered to Annella. She pressed one finger to her lips.

“What Elio’s trying to tell you – “

There was a noise on the other end of the line, and Elio was back on the phone. “What _Oliver’s_ trying to tell you,” he said, “is the same thing he told you last time he called you. He’s getting married. Only this time – “

“I – never thought I’d be saying this,” Oliver said. There was a slight tremor in his voice. “Elio and I have been seeing each other for the last several months, and we’ve decided – “

“Shut up, I’m telling them,” Elio interrupted. “We’re getting married. Don’t worry, he doesn’t usually let me drink this much. Papa?”

“Yes, Elio?”

“I’m almost thirty-eight.”

Samuel and Annella exchanged puzzled glances. “Yes,” Samuel said slowly. “I know.”

“I took your advice. I didn’t rip out too much and go bankrupt by the age of thirty.”

*****

“I’ve got an idea,” Oliver had whispered to Elio one night in bed, about a week after they’d gotten engaged. They were naked and sweaty under the sheet, Elio’s head resting on Oliver’s chest. “Tell me if you think it’s ridiculous.”

Elio dipped the tip of one finger into Oliver’s navel. Just because he could. “Oh, I’m sure it is.”

“Want to be Elio Perlman-Weiss?”

Elio lifted his head. “What?”

“You want to hyphenate our names?” Oliver rested one hand on Elio’s hair. “I mean, we get a chance to change our names with a few pieces of paper.” He grinned. “I guess I could legally change my name to Elio and you could change yours to Oliver, but it might get awfully confusing for everyone else – “

“So you’d hyphenate yours too?”

“Sure. If you think your parents will take another Perlman.”

“That’s really ridiculous.” Elio kissed him. “Let’s do it.”

*****

“I know you know how to tell people you’re getting married.”

It had been seven o’clock that evening by the time Oliver had woken up from a nap and checked his messages, eight o’clock by the time he got off the phone with Julie. Elio, lying next to him in their bed, had overheard everything. Now Elio was out of bed and shoving piles of freshly washed clothes into their dresser with a ferocious intensity. “I know Aaron doesn’t like me. That’s not news. But I didn’t expect that you’d – why wouldn’t you tell people why you’re changing your name? Why? It was your idea in the first place.”

The sky had darkened outside, and rain splattered against the windows. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to be angry with me.”

“God, there it is. How many times have I heard some version of, ‘Please don’t be angry with me, Elio.’” He shoved the top drawer shut. “‘Is the nosebleed my fault? Are you going to hold what happened last night against me? Do you mind that I’m getting married? Are you sorry I wrote to you again after all this time? Are you sorry I came over and we ended up in bed – ’”

The air conditioning was turned up too high, but Oliver didn’t think that was the only reason why he felt so cold, alone in bed. “Look, I didn’t grow up like you. We didn’t – deal with feelings in my family.” He paused. “Sure you want to add Weiss to your name?”

Elio’s shadow fell on the framed photos on the dresser – Elio and Johanna covered in paint, Oliver and his sons after Alex’s middle school graduation, Elio and Oliver nestled in the couch at Oliver’s sister’s house last Thanksgiving.“People get angry, Oliver. You know what, though? I’m not even angry at you now. I’m just really confused, because you clearly aren’t hiding our engagement from anyone else except your colleagues.” Elio set down the last pile of laundry and turned around. “You told your kids. You told your rabbi. You told your _mother_ and got into a big argument and we still haven’t gotten her RSVP. What’s the difference here?”

Oliver took a deep breath. “This is going to sound stupid. Ready?”

Elio crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the dresser, the lamplight glinting off his glasses “Ready.”

“It’s because Bellenger is in New York, and our marriage might not be legal in New York.”

Elio looked at him. “Are you serious? _That’s_ why?”

“I’m serious. I didn’t know what to say. ‘Dear everyone, I’m getting married again, but it’s only definitely valid in Massachusetts, so I’m not sure if you’ll think it really counts. I guess whether I’m married or not depends on where I am in my commute to work. You probably think I’m the shallowest person alive because I’ll have been married, divorced, and remarried – sort of remarried – in the span of less than five years. Also, you know how all of you in my department were invited to my last wedding? You’re not invited to this one, because my fiance just wants family and close friends. That’s fiance with one E. I’m marrying a man, which will surprise most if not all of you because I’ve been married to two women and I’ve never brought Elio to any faculty parties, because they usually conflict with his job schedule. So there you have it. I’m on my third marriage in twenty years, none of you are invited to the wedding, and the state of New York might not recognize it legally. Please congratulate me.’”

Elio snorted. “Dare you to type that up and send it.”

“The only sure thing is that I’m changing my name,” Oliver said. “That doesn’t alter no matter where we are. That’s always going to be my legal name. And I felt like I had to explain it, because they’re going to see the updated faculty directory, but I’d rather explain the reasons behind it in person and not over e-mail.” He stopped for a moment, watching Elio and searching for a reaction. “Every year, Bellenger has a huge faculty party a week after the semester starts. I’d love it if you went with me so I can introduce you to everyone.”

A hint of a smile played around the corners of Elio’s mouth; Oliver almost melted with relief. “You’re going to show off your younger trophy husband?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

“Might as well, if you think I still qualify. If I gain any more weight I’m going to have a gut like my father.”

Oliver reached out for both of Elio’s hands. “Oh, stop it. You know, I like you a little more filled out. When we first slept together, you were so skinny I was afraid I was going to break you.”

Elio laughed and climbed onto the bed. Oliver recognized the look in his eye. “You never told me that.”

“Well, I was.”

One of Elio’s hands slid down Oliver’s chest and rested between his legs. Oliver groaned. “You were afraid you were going to split me in half with your enormous cock?”

“Not what I said,” Oliver protested weakly. The feel of Elio’s hand, even though his clothes, was intoxicating. They’d spent two weeks limiting themselves to quick, quiet sex whenever the kids were out of the house.

“That’s funny.” Elio licked his neck. “I never worried about breaking you.”

An hour later, they were spent and sated, Elio collapsed between Oliver’s legs. Oliver could feel a heartbeat between them; whether it was his, Elio’s, or theirs beating together, he couldn’t say.

Elio’s foot rubbed against his. “You’re going to have to e-mail everyone again,” he said. “Even if you really want to tell them in person. Otherwise Julie’s going to spend the rest of the summer in an awkward position every time she talks to someone from Bellenger. It’s not fair to her.”

Oliver sighed. “Okay. Do me a favor and bring me my laptop.”

Elio nudged him in the ribs. “Can’t get up to get it yourself?”

Oliver reached down and slapped him sharply across one buttock; Elio cried out, but he was smiling. “Laptop, please.”

**To: Bellenger Faculty**  
**From: Oliver Weiss**  
**Subject: Name change**

**Hey, everyone –**

**From what I’ve heard, my last e-mail may have caused some confusion, for which I’d like to apologize. Let me try this again.**

**My partner, Elio, and I are getting married in a small ceremony in western Massachusetts a week before the new semester starts. ( _Please_ don’t send any presents; between the two of us, my two sons, and Elio’s daughter, we already have more things than our new house can hold.) We’ve decided to take each other’s last names, so as of August 22, I’m going to be Oliver Weiss-Perlman. I’m looking forward to introducing Elio to all of you. He’ll be coming to Seventh-Day Soiree with me – which, incidentally, takes place the night before he starts his new job as a violinist for the Albany Symphony Orchestra.**

**Again, sorry for the confusion. Hope you’re having a great summer.**

**Oliver Weiss(-Perlman)**

Elio was reading over Oliver’s shoulder. “Looks good?” Oliver asked when he finished typing.

Elio leaned over and kissed him, long and deeply. “Looks good.” Suddenly, he started laughing.

“What?”

The rain outside was starting to let up. “We’re probably going to go the rest of our lives with everyone screwing up our names,” Elio said, taking Oliver’s hand. “‘Wait – his last name is Weiss-Perlman and your last name is Perlman-Weiss? Oh, _his_ last name is Perlman-Weiss? Which one of you – ’”

“That sounds absolutely wonderful to me,” Oliver said, squeezing Elio’s hand. “Oliver.”

“Elio.” Elio shoved the laptop to one side and slid on top of Oliver; Oliver closed his eyes for a moment, blissful under the warm weight of Elio’s body. “Elio, Elio, Elio – “

“Hang on, just a second,” Oliver said.

He let go, adjusted the computer screen, and clicked “Send.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Call Me By Your Name" inspired me to get back to writing fanfics and finally get an AO3 account. (Usually when I write someone named Oliver in bed with a man, the man is Percy Weasley.) Bellenger College and Alfriston, New York are fictional; the Albany Symphony Orchestra is real.


End file.
